The Deceiver's Heart (The Traitor's Game 2)

Trina was clearly disheartened and Basil looked exhausted. When I studied his army more carefully, I saw their bloodstained uniforms, dirty and bruised faces, and expressions of defeat.

“It was a slaughter,” Basil said quietly. “And they aren’t far behind. I hope you’ve got a bigger army in hiding than what I can see now.”

My attention shifted to Trina, who must have been wondering the same thing I did. But it was Mindall who asked the same question as before: “When can we expect to fight with the Coracks?”

“We’ll fight with what we have,” I replied, then to Basil, I added, “Let’s get everyone onto the tracks. I doubt we have much time.”

We had less time than I had expected. For even as I spoke, I heard the first screech of a giant condor.

The battle was about to begin. We weren’t likely to win, but I hoped what we were facing was a mere defeat, not the near decimation Basil and Trina had just endured.

Either way, I raced up the nearest ladder, grabbed one of the many halberds that Reddengrad had stationed in the trees, and readied myself to find out.

I began my morning in a rotten mood, fueled by exhaustion and starvation from the sweet cream and air that passed as Brillian food, and perfectly aware it would be a long day of disappointing everyone around me.

So I was already irritated when I was led to an open field near the castle where Wynnow and Imri Stout stood with a stern reminder that they had been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes. Thinking of the stolen necklace, I approached them with caution. “Where’s Loelle?”

“We have no need of a physician,” Wynnow said, eyeing Imri. When she saw my concern, she added, “I told you before, Kestra, that I don’t trust her. I think she wants to use your magic for her own purposes. Not as Infidant

e, but something she wants from you.”

I’d gotten the same feeling from Loelle last night. But then, I had the same feeling from Wynnow too, that there was something more behind her offer to train me than simply wanting Lord Endrick’s defeat. I’d been naïve far too often, but no longer.

“Let’s be clear about something,” I said. “The decision whether to trust Loelle is entirely mine. You are the princess of these lands, but I am the Infidante of Antora and I will not yield that decision to you.”

Surprisingly, Wynnow nodded her head in respect. “Agreed. Shall we begin?”

Imri stepped forward. “It’s a beautiful morning. I thought perhaps we might start by testing your influence on nature.”

I shook my head. “I already tried—”

“We rushed you yesterday in the carriage. That wasn’t fair, especially given your … fears in there, which would prevent the proper focus and relaxation.” Her false smile turned sour. “I suspect that with your memories returning, you are rarely relaxed and that your focus on any given topic shifts like leaves in the wind.”

There was more truth to her words than I wanted to admit. I tried to remember a time in my life when I’d been perfectly relaxed and came up with nothing. I wished I could recall—or trust—who I’d once been. As I was now, was this always me?

“Kestra?” Wynnow touched my arm.

My eyes flew open. “We should wait to do this. I’m still not entirely myself.”

“Will Endrick wait until your memories are intact? Until you’ve had proper time to understand your powers?”

I nodded and tried to push the nagging worries from my mind. “You’re right. Let’s begin.”

Imri shook her head, doubting me only slightly less than I already doubted myself. “I fear you lack—”

“What’s the first test?”

Imri smiled and gestured to the skies. “Something simple, perhaps. Can you give us a slight breeze?”

A slight breeze wouldn’t trouble Lord Endrick. Instead, I focused on creating a storm. Gathering clouds, generating lightning. If I could control the weather, in combination with the Olden Blade, I could do more than defeat Lord Endrick. I could singlehandedly defeat the Dominion.

But for all my concentration, my determination, and a full hour of sincere effort, I couldn’t generate a storm, nor a slight breeze, nor the rustle of a single blade of grass. The effort exhausted me, but I wouldn’t admit that to Imri or Winnow. They’d only rattle on about how Brillians never became tired from mental work.

“Pity,” Imri said. “I rather hoped that would be your power.”

She shifted to testing me for what had once been my mother’s ability, to become undetectable. “Without this power, Anaya never could have stolen the Olden Blade. It would be natural for you to have inherited it.” She angled away from me. “When I turn around again, I should not notice you, even if you are directly in front of me.”

It was a nice thought, but when she did turn back to me, her lips pressed together in utter disappointment. There I was, my arms widened in a hopeless gesture.